by V. Theia
It didn’t matter that he’d earned more in his few years with the Souls than he would have by working for his family.
In this instance, his money was dirt.
While he brooded with a beer, his hip leaning on the windowsill, unconsciously looking out for the swish of dark hair and her white hooded coat coming back down the street, he realized—maybe for the first time being honest with himself, raw and open and ugly truth washing through his gray matter … that he’d been subconsciously trying to gain some respect back for years.
Approval maybe.
And failed miserably.
There was no sign of her half an hour later when he ditched his empty bottle in the trash can. He felt like shit for handling that all wrong.
He wanted her.
That’s what he knew.
Even when she ignored his phone calls to come back home. He wanted her.
Pulling on his running shoes, he did what he’d been doing for years and that was running away from his problems.
Burying his head in the sand, pretending he was a stand up decent guy who always did right by those he cared for.
Yeah, right.
Texas would laugh, only he wasn’t in a very funny mood.
He hit the sidewalk and didn’t stop for a very long time.
* * *
“He actually said he wanted to fuck you until he ruined you?”
“Well, I was paraphrasing, but yeah. That was the gist of it.” Poppy answered Roux, with her cheeks still blazing some thirty minutes later once Roux drove into town after Poppy’s frustrated phone call.
The pair were seated in a corner table in the local diner.
In front of them, they each had a coffee; Roux’s coffee was black as tar and probably tasteless because she didn’t even add real sugar or sweeteners. Poppy cupped both hands around her mocha, liberally sweetened with a heavy dash of coconut creamer too.
“Bikers have a weird moral code when it comes to pussy.” Announced Roux.
Roux had grown up in that environment, she walked, talked and acted tough while being absolutely stunning. In Poppy’s eyes she was the perfect woman… in a non-sexual way. Though, if she flew that flag, she’d absolutely have a crush on Roux.
Her confidence was attractive and the way she held her own against the scary men in her father’s MC was admirable and also funny because they all practically bowed down to her or protected her in bubble wrap, to Roux’s annoyance.
“Like they don’t mind taking all the free pussy that’s thrown at them, and they get a lot.” This made Poppy frown thinking how much Tait has had, but she buried the frown in her coffee cup and drank until it burned her throat, “but when it’s someone who they might actually like, they turn into pearl clutching idiots who daren’t touch a princess for fear of ramifications.” She scowled and tugged on her long ponytail hanging over her shoulder.
Poppy got the impression that Roux was speaking personally. “Forget him, babe. If he’s not interested in getting horizontal with you, there’s plenty of guys who will, you’re hot.”
Poppy blinked and blushed to high heavens.
“You think so?”
“Relax, Cinderella,” her friend laughed, “you don’t do it for me, you need more dick. But you’re hot as hell. I love your rack and you have a fantastic ass. All the guys at home noticed.” Home was her dad’s MC, though. Roux didn’t actually live there full time.
Roux laughed at her surprise. “You were engaged, babe, none of them told you that you were fuckably hot?”
“Well…no. Maybe if they had, we’d be married and I’d be a lot more satisfied.”
“I’m telling you, men in suits are fucking boring in and out of the bedroom. Give me a rough man who knows how to handle a woman and what to do with his hands and his mouth.”
“Why don’t you have a boyfriend, Roux? You’re not dumb enough to get kidnapped and sold holding a wedding gown like me,” this Roux snorted at. She was just like her father in that she saw that whole situation as business. This world was so new to Poppy, she didn’t think she could ever see selling a person as normal. She wouldn’t tell Roux, for fear of offending her, but those bikers scared her, her dad especially. His aura was black as night. “You’re gorgeous and confident.”
Roux rolled a shoulder, nonchalantly. “Can you see a boyfriend coming to the door with my dad? He’d be full of bullet holes before he can say hey.”
At that, the phone in Poppy’s pocket started chiming again.
It took all her willpower not to answer it.
“Ignoring him?”
“Yes, I am.”
Roux laughed. “Good girl, I’ll teach you how to be a badass biker bitch yet. Make these men finally see they’re not getting a princess but a fucking queen on the back of their bikes.”
Again, the statement sounded more personal than Roux was letting on, but Poppy being Poppy and still slightly moody over Tait, she didn’t dive into her friends’ business.
“is it weird that I’m glad we met? I mean, despite the circumstances.”
“Me too, Cinders.”
“You’ve been a better friend to me in a few weeks than all the friends I’ve had growing up.” She sighed and looked slightly chagrined about it. “That’s quite sad, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, babe, a bit. Know your worth. Bitches who don’t see that don’t get to be your friend. You need a better girl squad. Girls to have your back, not lick ass around your so called fiancé who probably can’t find his own micro dick.”
Poppy snorted unladylike and covered her mouth.
Her phone chimed again twice more and she let it ring off.
She’d talk to Tait soon enough.
Not like she could run away a second time, not after she made such a fuss of taking up refuge in his apartment.
She’d just have to pull on her big girl panties.
“Let’s go out for drinks soon,” she suggested. “Do you know any good bars?”
“Babe,” Roux grinned, making her a thousand percent sexier in her tight denim and vivid blue lipstick. “You know it. We’ll get you white girl wasted and see if we can’t find you a man who knows…”
“How to use his hands and his mouth?” She filled in, delighted.
“Ex-fucking-zactly. Those bikers need taking down a peg or two. A woman offers her body, he should get on the floor and show his fucking gratitude.”
Picturing Tait on his knees, with his hands spanning her hips while his mouth… while his mouth did things to her… brought flashes of flames racing over her cheekbones.
She didn’t want any other man, she wanted him badly and desperately.
But she’d love going for drinks with Roux.
Her mom often hid all her problems in a bottle of Chablis.
So could Poppy.
* * *
Texas didn’t intend to poke his nose in again.
He’d told Snake about the Russian’s because he still gave a fuck about them trying to swindle the Souls. He wasn’t using it to get back in, that was like flogging not only a dead horse, but a horse that had been cremated three times.
Besides, that’s not how Texas worked.
He didn’t do to get something in return.
So when he ended his furious run out by the distillery again, he started to nose around, curious like. And he happened to click a few pictures of the operation inside.
He wondered if they had a permit for that kind of deal.
He figured because there was no security presence, the likelihood of it even being legal with all the proper documentation was slim to fucking none.
He was no longer part of the Souls inner circle; didn’t mean he hated those Russian’s any less. He remembered the near death state of Grinder and the threats against Souls women just like it happened yesterday.
Maybe if he could do something about it, he’d feel better about looking at himself in the mirror one day.
Whatever the case may be, after a few minutes, his ca
mera roll was full of the filthiest shit he could probably get arrested for in at least forty states.
He hooked his phone on his bicep and got back to running.
He wasn’t far when the same black car rolled up alongside him and Texas internally cursed.
The blackout window in the back rolled down and Texas came to a stop, breath churning through his lungs, the cold air nipped his skin, but more than that, it was irritation looking at the smarmy smirk of the man looking out at him.
“We meet again, Mr. Hunt. One would say kismet, da?”
One would say you’re a colossal dipshit. He didn’t say it of course, because he started thinking as the other man was waxing on about business blah fucking blah.
There was an upside to being the twin to one of New York’s premier ATF agents and that is, Malachai liked to brag.
He liked to brag on all of his accomplishments and how he achieved them.
This meant, Texas knew of every underhanded, sneaky and sly way that Mal extracted information from his rats and sources. He knew how to be charming and friendly, to get the enemy on side and soak up every inch of that knowledge until it was time to bury him.
He went all in before he could stop himself.
“What did you have in mind? And if you say doing the dirty on my club, you can just choke on your own fucking vomit.”
Grigori sounded genuinely amused when he laughed.
“Climb in, we talk over scotch.”
“Nah, I don’t think so. You can tell me now.”
Reaching inside his wool coat, Texas braced for a bullet to the chest, but it was only a business card he offered out of the car window. “Meet me tomorrow evening at this address. You were the treasurer, were you not?” Texas didn’t confirm. “I admire a man who can turn water into wine.”
“I’m no Jesus.”
He flipped the white rectangle of card over in his hand and read the address. It was the apartment blocks they’d supposedly vacated last year after Rider issued his warning to get gone. The same apartments the Russians held a get to know the local assholes party when Grinder helped his now wife steal something from them and then nearly got himself killed.
What Texas gleaned in those two minutes was, the Russian was playing smart, making the Souls believe he’d packed up all his ties in town. If Texas looked into the owner of that building, he’d bet his dick it was not owned by any conglomerate associated to Grigori at all.
Someone was fronting for him.
He just bet it was Rex Marinos.
Turning on his heel, he didn’t offer the older man a word.
Texas started running again on the edge of the road.
The car sped by him, and he kept going until his chest burned.
And a plan as stupid as his first one started to form in his mind.
He dragged his sweaty-self home and discovered the apartment dark, but he got a blast of relief seeing Poppy’s coat hung up on the peg and her boots lined up next to his.
He found a lasagna in the fridge and he smiled while he shoved it into his mouth, knowing the little girl was tucked up in his bed.
Without him, and his dick hurt, but she was home.
EIGHTEEN
“Better to eat you, little girl.” - Texas
The more he thought about things, the angrier he became internally.
How Grigori somehow caught onto the Souls tension and glommed the fuck onto Texas, like he thought he was separating a baby duckling from the pack.
Texas seriously had a hard on to bury that guy for no other reason than he had anger inside himself that couldn’t be quelled and needed to take it out on someone.
He was in no way at the level of Lawless when it came to…anything, that freak of nature could hack into the Pentagon if he wanted to, just stroll right in through their firewalls and whatever else they had on cyber guard and not get caught.
What Texas knew though, was stocks, shares and money. He’d used his insight for Rider and the club and never regretted cleaning all that dirty money by investing it in very lucrative places.
He had the photos but that might not be enough.
He’d seen plenty of how the bratva bought their way out of charges that didn’t even reach a judge. Now that they didn’t have the mayor in their pockets, that might change.
Rider never worked with the law.
The club were their own judge and jury.
But a loose agreement between the club and Charlie not so long ago, meant that he’d look the other way if Rider used means and ways to get rid of Grigori in their town, after all, the sheriff wanted the same thing and Charlie, being reasonable and a good guy, agreed.
Texas didn’t know if they still had their verbal handshake going, he hated not being at the church table.
It was like missing a limb.
So he sat and stewed.
All the while watching the bedroom door, waiting for it to open so he could put his eyes on Poppy.
Every morning since she shoehorned her way into his loft, she’d been up and around before seven. Here it was nearing eleven and not a peep from behind that door, he knew she was in there because like a creeper, he waited until 2 am last night and stuck his head in the door to see her sprawled out fast asleep.
He was ready to knock the door down and drag her out to face him if he had to.
Offering her little pussy to him one second and then hiding it the next.
The back of his jaw cracked, he felt like Superman trying to X-ray vision the door so he could see beyond.
And then the door creaked open and his heart started to thump again.
What he didn’t expect was her to fly into a tantrum at the first sight of him.
* * *
“For goodness sake, Tait. Why are you still here?” She exclaimed, in her sleep shorts and tank top with an oversized hoodie over that, his hoodie she’d stolen. “I’ve been sitting in bed for hours just waiting for you to go out, with my ears pricked to the door. Do you know how grumbly my belly is?”
She huffed and grumped and didn’t notice how his stare was zeroed in on her legs.
She was starving and couldn’t take it any longer so she’d braced her shoulders and faced the lion head on. Intent on an apology, the yelling took her by surprise too, just seeing his gorgeous face made her tongue go rogue and start firing words at will.
“Where am I supposed to be?” He asked incredulous sounding.
“I don’t know. Out. Somewhere that isn’t here, so I could formulate my apology just right, now you’ve ruined it, so I’m sorry! That’s all you get. I’m sorry for yesterday.”
“This is my house,” he told her, “and I have no job and it’s fucking snowing a blizzard outside.”
Her eyes cut over to the windows and sure enough, great sheets of the white stuff was falling from the sky. If not for the possibility of her stomach caving down to her bare feet, she might have pulled on her boots to dance in the alleyway around back. It looked serene and beautiful, she could almost … nearly forget all her troubles and the man on the couch in his black sweatpants and t-shirt glowering at her.
“Well, I guess that’s a fine excuse.” She conceded, with her brow pinched in the middle and she heard him laugh.
“Gee, thanks, baby, for not tossing me out of my own house.”
She flipped her messy hair over one shoulder and glanced only briefly at him. “You’re welcome.”
Her back to him now, she thought it best not to look at his face for a while, until she got over her mortification at offering her body and having him huff and gruff and blow her house down.
Apparently, bikers were so touchy.
“I’m making coffee, I guess I can make you some too and food if you haven’t eaten. I’m so hungry I nearly ate a jar of face cream because it’s called golden butter, but I licked it and it was not at all like butter, Tait. I don’t have to go into work, Paige said she doesn’t need me until Saturday, that’s the busiest day.”
She went on
and on.
She was ready to switch the coffee machine on when a hand on her arm pulled her around.
Her mouth opened on a surprised O and it didn’t get any better, because Tait grabbed Poppy up in his arms and shoved her onto the kitchen counter, widening her legs with his hands and he stepped in.
“Do you ever shut up?”
Her eyes rounded. Well of all the nerve.
“That wasn’t very nice. TAIT.”
His name came out startled because he crushed his mouth down on hers, stifling whatever else she had in mind to say to him.
In an instant his taste flooded her whole mouth like a tsunami and she fell into him. Call her a sucker, but she didn’t hesitate in kissing back the man who only yesterday rejected her.
Tait was utterly delicious and she went deep with hardly a blink in between.
Twining both of her arms around his neck.
He was skilled.
And a perfect kisser.
When he pulled back, it was only to hoist her up by the butt and stroll across the floor to dump her on the couch.
He got in between her legs, hovering right there, holding himself up on his hands looking down at her and Poppy’s system went into spasmodic inner flaring at the look of sex on his face.
If she didn’t think she’d ruin the moment she might have squealed a “yippee.” Instead, she locked her feet around his calves and pulled him all the way down until he landed deliciously heavy on top of her.
His mouth found her neck and he sucked hard. “Fuck, I need to eat your pussy.”
“Oh, my gosh, Tait. Do you just say it like that?”
“Baby, you offered me it yesterday, don’t say you’re taking it back.”
“I didn’t quite put it in those words. I said fooling around.”
“What do you think fooling around means? Tickle fights?”
“I don’t know, maybe really intense cuddling,” she was joking just so she could watch his eyes crinkle at the edges.
“I’m lacking in physical experience, Tait, but I’m not inept. I know what my body likes. I know quite well what I need.”